My Best Friend
by Sparbudart
Summary: Bebe sneaks into Kyle's room one night. A bit cute.


**Author's Note: **Queen of sappy? That's me.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it. Any of it.

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**My Best Friend**

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Kyle realized that things really did go bump in the night when he heard a sonorous thump come from the outside of his window. Sitting upright with a jolt, he rubbed sleep from his eyes, glancing blearily at the digital clock on his nightstand. Though his eyes were clouded with the mist of sleep, he was able to make out the luminescent numbers on the clock's face: two-thirty in the morning.

Incredulous, and miffed at being woken up in the wee hours of the morning, he clambered out of the bliss of the furnace that was his down comforter and blanket and immediately regretted going to bed in nothing more than a pair of boxers and a t-shirt as a wave of goose bumps washed over his limbs. Kyle grabbed his hat on the bedpost, jammed it over his head, and made his way over to the window, shivering slightly.

There came another bout of urgent tapping from behind the glass.

"Okay!" he hissed impatiently. "I'm coming already!" With a scowl, the Jewish boy positively ripped back the curtains, hearing the howling wind and rain against the windowpane. He blinked several times just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Kneeling on his roof, wearing nothing but her pajamas and rabbit slippers, was Bebe Stevens, drenched from head to toe from the relentless rain.

Without hesitating, he unlocked the latch on his window, and she climbed into his room followed by a powerful gust of wind, grateful for being out of the rain. "Hey, Kyle," she stated simply. Without waiting for a reply, she busied herself by looking for a towel in his room to wipe off some of the excess moisture. Humming slightly, she wrung out her hair in the towel that Kyle normally used after he took a shower.

Kyle found the action in itself to be somewhat disturbing and grimaced; did she know that he actually _used_ that thing? "Bebe," he said finally. "What are you doing here?" She hadn't snuck over to his house since they were in elementary school.

The blond stilled her motions momentarily and shrugged. She then went on drying out her hair. "Can I borrow some clothes or something?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Huh?" Kyle was sure that he had heard that last request incorrectly. The last few moments of sleep had not quite melted away from his hazy mind, and he had extreme difficulty not nodding off right then and there.

"I'm cold, and I'm wet. Can't I at least borrow a dry shirt or something?" She took it upon herself to give a theatrical shiver, which sent icy water droplets flying onto Kyle's exposed skin. He scowled as he went over to his closet and dug out and oversized Terrence and Phillip shirt and some plaid shorts. With an exasperated grunt, he handed them over to her, and she accepted the garments gratefully with a "thank you."

Before Kyle was ready for it, however, Bebe began to strip out of her soaked pajamas without warning. He spun around on the spot before he could see anything inappropriate, scratching the base of his neck and feeling somewhat awkward. _What the…_ "Why the hell do you always do that?!" he asked in an outrage, finding it difficult to keep his voice lowered so as not to wake his parents or brother.

"Dude, we're friends. It's not that big of a big deal."

"It wasn't a big deal when we were eight! Now it kinda is!" Kyle could feel his cheeks starting to heat up, though the rest of his body remained relatively cool. Was he the only one that realized that Bebe had practically flashed him her _boobs_?

"Oh, don't be such a wuss. I'm done, see?" she held her arms out on either side of her as Kyle reluctantly turned around. For some reason, seeing her in his clothes made him feel oddly satisfied.

"Okay, great. Now can I go to sleep?"

"Knock yourself out," she said, grinning brightly, her eyes sparkling despite the darkness.

Rolling his eyes, Kyle climbed into his bed once again, snuggled into his mattress, and was prepared to ignore her as she prowled around his room; he really couldn't be bothered to wonder about her reasons for being there at such an ungodly hour. He watched her dark silhouette wander around for several moments, chucking his hat at her deftly when she bumped into something in the dark that made a rather loud noise.

He was beginning to drift off, eyes struggling to stay open, when he felt a weight impose itself on the mattress next to him. He stiffened in shock and turned around completely to find Bebe staring at him in the dark, blinking innocently every few seconds.

"What are you _doing_?!" he hissed in annoyance. Before he got accused of doing something indecent, or before his mom chose to go about on one of her random nightly prowls, Kyle made to get up.

Bebe, however, laid a tentative hand on his arm before he had gotten too far and gave him a dejected look that clearly said, "Stay?"

His expression softening, Kyle reluctantly settled back into his bed and asked again, "What are you doing here?" but the tone was softer, more understanding; if there was one thing in the world that he hated, it was seeing his friend looking so vulnerable and defeated. To his horror, she responded with a sniffle, her eyes beginning to tear up. She clutched at the front of his shirt as her lip gave an ominous quiver.

Not wanting to send her the wrong message, Kyle contented himself with simply grasping her hand with his and stroking the back of it with his thumb in what he hoped was a soothing manner. His terror doubled when the tender action caused Bebe to break down completely into shaky sobs.

Apparently suddenly bitten on the ass by bravery, Kyle did something he normally wouldn't have done and wrapped his arms tentatively around her small form. She reacted in a manner that was somewhat pleasing, pressing herself as close as she could to his torso and just allowing her cold feet to touch his own. Had she not been crying, Kyle would have actually found his current situation to be very agreeable indeed.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when Bebe found her voice again. "Kyle… are you still awake?"

He responded with a noise that wasn't quite a word, his eyes closed; he could feel her breath on his neck, and he was enjoying it immensely. "Ready to talk?" he murmured, already half-asleep.

"My parents were fighting."

"Again?"

"It was really bad this time… I think he hit her. I'm not sure, though. I just couldn't take it, so I came here." She sounded apologetic for waking him up so randomly.

Kyle was sure that wasn't the only thing that had persuaded her to get out of bed in the middle of the night during a storm, and he remained silent until she chose to reveal part two of her grief. He could almost see her biting her bottom lip through his closed eyelids; it was such a "Bebe" action.

"Um… Clyde broke it off…"

Kyle's eyes snapped open at this, half in relief, half in shock. "What?" he asked.

"I think I was expecting it… but it was still a shock, you know?"

"Well, I've been telling you for years that he's an asshole."

"I know… but…" Bebe let her sentence trail off.

"'But'?" Kyle repeated, beginning to get impatient again.

"I really liked him, Kyle…"

Something about that statement made his bed seem less comfortable. He knew that she liked Clyde. It was obvious. It was enough for him to run his hand through his hair in class to cause Bebe to sigh and lick her lips. But this wasn't about how much of a butt pipe Clyde was. Kyle had to remind himself that it was about Bebe. "Did he say why, at least?"

She hesitated, fidgeting in the dark and combing through her damp hair with her fingers. "H-He was jealous."

Kyle scoffed, his eyes sliding shut once more. "About what?"

"About… erm… you."

The Jewish boy gave her a nervous glance, but she was busy looking at her fidgeting hands on the mattress between them. "Me?" he asked, his voice hitching slightly.

"He thinks that we're, you know… together…"

"But we're not. Didn't you tell him that?"

Bebe neglected to respond for several moments, and Kyle assumed that she had fallen asleep. Shrugging internally, he decided that he deserved a good night's sleep and closed his eyes for about the tenth time that night. That was until he heard a timid voice speak softly through the penetrating darkness.

"I… I told him that we are."

Kyle gave a shocked look to Bebe still wrapped up in his arms. She met his eyes with shaky confidence this time, as if afraid of being rejected. There he was, holding her close to his heart (which, for the record, felt as though it was going to damage his rib cage), and in her own roundabout way, she had practically told him that there was something more than friendship between them.

Was _that_ what she was afraid of? Was she afraid that he wouldn't talk to her or something if Clyde had told him first on Monday morning?

His thoughts changed as he saw just how touchable she looked at that moment.

He could see the freckles on her nose even in the dark. That was how close she was.

Kyle was tempted – almost _eager_ – to lean in and kiss her, to show her that he wasn't intangible like Clyde was, to show her that he wanted her, but most importantly, to show her that he really and truly cared.

_Do it,_ he said internally.

This was what he _told_ himself, but the only thing he managed to do was stare at her, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Well say something!" Bebe hissed at him, suddenly irritated with his lack of response.

_Jesus, girls get annoyed easily…_ "Is that the truth?" Kyle asked her. After several minutes of silence, he pulled an immature trick: "_Well say something!_" he mimicked when she didn't answer. Bebe punched him in the shoulder. "Ouch! Why'd you do that?"

"Because I could! Jerk…" she muttered, removing herself from his arms and turning around in the bed, her back to his face. She shivered as she scooted as far away from him as possible; her hair was still damp.

Kyle took it as a good sign that she didn't do something irrational like jump out into the storm again. At least it was implied that they were still talking to each other; a sane person wouldn't just lie in bed with someone they wanted to strangle. Then again… Bebe wasn't exactly _sane_… "So? Is that true, then?" No answer. "If it helps… I wouldn't mind it…"

She turned around again, her blue eyes glinting in the dark. "Obviously it's true," she responded, brow furrowed in agitation. Her tone had an icy edge to it. "I'm not just gonna take off my clothes in front of _anyone_!"

Kyle couldn't help but laugh at her. "Do you realize what you just implied?" he asked in mild disbelief.

"Are you saying you don't want to see!? Pervert…"

"What the – I'm trying to be a decent guy here. If one of us is a pervert, it's you. _You_ crawled into bed with _me_. Why the hell are you still mad?"

"You made fun of me!"

"I rip on you all the time!"

"You're not supposed to do that when a girl's crying!"

Kyle tried in vain to quiet her with frantic hand gestures. "Dude, shut up; you're going to wake up my mom!"

Bebe complied somewhat reluctantly but punched him in the shoulder again, though with less force than the first time. "God… you're so stupid, Kyle…"

"Bebe?" said boy inquired, ignoring her jab.

"What?" she replied, still a bit irked.

"I want to kiss you. Really badly." He hoped that the tension that was building up wasn't just one-sided.

"Oh, good." Before he could react, she had attached herself once again to his shirt front, burying her hands hurriedly in his auburn hair. Their lips met with sweet caresses and frantic breath. Kyle's hands made their way down her back and crawled up under the back of her nightshirt of their own accord. She responded by linking one of her smooth legs behind his and groaning sensuously into his mouth as his hands roamed over her bare skin.

Both of them had had their fair share of kissing in the past; heck, both of them had been kissed by the third grade, but something about this one was different. Perhaps it was the fact that it was completely unexpected. Perhaps it was the fact that it was in the middle of the night and both of them were somewhat dizzy with sleep and want. But more than likely was the fact that the two of them were both finally sure, after dancing around it for so long, that it was what they wanted.

Making out didn't get much farther than that.

Kyle and Bebe parted, breathing heavier than normal. Her hands were still tangled up his red locks, and his still rested soundly on the bare skin of her hips. Bebe hesitantly brought her hand down to his chest, where his heart was positively racing. He responded by closing his eyes and resting his forehead on hers.

"Kyle?"

"Huh?"

"Are we together, then?"

"I dunno… do you want to be?"

She nodded against him and then let out a loud yawn. "Can I stay here?"

"Of course," he replied, fully aware that his mom would probably eat his intestines for dinner the next day. "Let's just go to sleep." But it was already an unnecessary request. Bebe was already breathing deeply, and her arm made its way around him. He pulled her closer and nodded off himself.

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Gerald Broflovski walked down the hall with a cup off coffee in his hand. Scratching his chin, he made his way outside Kyle's door, which he found closed. He knocked on it twice, but there was no response. He pushed it open with a yawn. "Kyle – " but he cut himself off when he saw his son and the young's Stevens girl soundly asleep in the same bed. They lay facing each other, but the only things that were touching were their hands. The blanket had slid down far enough over their shoulders for Gerald to see (with relief) that both of them were still fully clothed.

As he stared, floored, for several moments, his wife appeared at his shoulder. To his surprise, she was rather silent, and he could make out a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Sheila, what in the world is our son – "

But she cut him off with a brisk shushing. "Just let him be, Gerald."

"But he's lying in bed with a girl!" he hissed back. As he spoke, Bebe shifted closer to Kyle in her sleep so that her face was near the crook of his neck. Gerald's hand shook, sending coffee splashing precariously close to the mug's rim.

"It's better than lying in bed with a guy, I suppose."

Gerald scowled. "That's hardly funny!"

Sheila put a hand on his shoulder. "If I recall correctly, I seem to remember something of this sort happening between _us_ a long time ago…"

Gerald Broflovski calmed, and he and his wife closed their son's bedroom door quietly to spare him some embarrassment; if they wanted to, he and Bebe would have the option of having her sneak out through the window so as not to reveal the situation to the parents.

Several hours later, Bebe opened her eyes and smiled at the boy lying beside her. She stroked his face, smiling softly to herself as he turned his head in his sleep so that he seemed to lean into her touch.

"I'm so lucky I'm in love with my best friend."

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**Author's Note: **Like it? I'm not sure that I'm happy with the end… LoL, about the last line… I was like listening to "Lucky" by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat the entire time. xD


End file.
